Human by Hayley Camille

searched the crowd and quickly found Orrin. He was leaning against an information stand, staring at her with an unreadable expression. Ivy took a deep breath and walked towards him. I don’t care what he thinks.
    But she knew it was a lie.

 
     
    Orrin placed a latte in front of Ivy on the stained plastic table.
    “So… that wasn't what I expected. Again.”
    Ivy smiled, hiding a pang of disappointment. “I keep doing that, don't I?”
    “Don't get me wrong, you were actually - brilliant. Really you were.” Orrin sat down opposite her with his own coffee, knocking the refectory table as he did so. The coffee cups wobbled precariously, sloshing across the table. Ivy jumped up but a large coffee stain was already blossoming on the front of her skirt. “Jaysus! Sorry!” Orrin leapt forward to help, knocking the table again. He groaned and clapped a hand to his forehead.
    “Aah, shite. I've made a complete haymes of you now.” His smile faltered as Ivy mopped up her clothes with serviettes. “That skirt of yours is really getting abused today isn't it.”
    “Don’t worry. Refectory coffee is notoriously cold,” Ivy said. “And to be honest, I'm not one much for skirts anyway.” Not after today's treachery. This skirt seemed fated for the bin.
    They sat back down to awkward silence. Finally, Orrin spoke.
    “You really were fierce up there. The protesters were near scrapping over it for you. Those guys in costumes revving up the crowd at the end, well, I sure don't envy the guards; they looked like they were anticipating trouble.” He leaned back in his chair. “Where are they headed now?”
    Ivy's forehead creased momentarily with worry as she glanced toward the waiting buses. Streams of students were piling on, encouraged by the continuing war-cries of the orange shirts. “The city. There's a multi-national corporation in Flinders Street that supplies palm oil to some of the big food manufacturers. They've got a petition to deliver. 'Make it sustainable or don't make it at all.'” The first of the buses pulled slowly from the curb. “Don't worry; I doubt there’ll be any trouble. Liam's our head campaigner on the ground - he's enthusiastic for sure, but he can control the crowd.”
    “Enthusiastic? Bit of an understatement for that boyo.” Orrin's framed eyes flicked to the buses, then back to Ivy's face as she watched them leave the turning circle one by one. Liam's mop of hair bobbed up and down as he herded more bystanders onto the bus, convincing them to skip class. Ivy grinned, familiar with his tactics. A campus party had undoubtedly been promised.
    Orrin cleared his throat hesitantly. “Am I keeping you? I mean, shouldn't you be with them?”
    “No. I've got a tutorial later and I'd hate to leave the newbies without their homework.” Ivy flashed him a smile. “Anyway they don't need me, I just lay out the facts, and Liam leads the action. Yin and yang, you know? We’re a good team.” Her mind drifted back to the pulsing crowd, the claustrophobia, that terrifying voice. Falling. She felt the heat in her cheeks at that last memory. “I'm not much of a people person to be honest,” she admitted quietly.
    “The crowd loved you,” Orrin said. “Liam seems pretty - uh, enthusiastic too. Are you…? I mean, are you and Liam… together?” Orrin seemed unable or unwilling to look at her. He ran a hand through his thick hair and laughed nervously. “Sorry, none of my business….”
    Ivy paused. “Um, no. No , not at all. Just friends, colleagues.” She caught a flash of relief on Orrin's face before he masked it. “God no, I mean, Liam's a laugh and all but he's practically got a conveyer belt of interested women. All far more stunning than me and fresh out of high school.” She raised an eyebrow. “They usually last about two weeks.”
    “Fair play,” laughed Orrin, visibly relaxing. “Although, I doubt they could be more stunning than you, age regardless.” He winked at her.